


Fuck you, Stan Marsh

by ChickenPoofer



Category: South Park
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Angst, Epistolary, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Letters, M/M, Mental Health Issues, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-15
Updated: 2020-02-15
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:13:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22743070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChickenPoofer/pseuds/ChickenPoofer
Summary: ''You're an asshole. You've been an asshole for years but it took me this long to realize that. We've been through so much shit together and I was just supposed to find out on my own you left without a word? How could you have just up and left without telling the one guy who you’ve known longer than you’ve known how to write your own name.''(Kyle writes an emotional but mostly angry letter to Stan. The relationship tag is a fairly minor part of the story.)
Relationships: Kyle Broflovski & Stan Marsh, Kyle Broflovski/Stan Marsh
Comments: 5
Kudos: 37





	Fuck you, Stan Marsh

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is basically Kyle venting in letter form. I wasn't intending on making more for this but I kind of like the narrative so, I might make a story related to this? It'll probably depend on the number of people that like this little thing, though.
> 
> I started writing this letter a while ago but I had a very strong urge to start writing again so, this was the first thing that I saw in my folders. A few things are left up to interpretation so, do what you want with those. I still don't know how good my writing is when it's in the first person so, I hope it's alright?
> 
> But yeah, enjoy, I guess!

_To my dearest ''Super Best Friend'' Stanley Marsh,_

_Alright, let's just get this out of the way._

_Fuck you. I don't know how difficult it'll be for you to remember me but if you don't remember who I am by the end of the letter, I will strangle you with my own two hands._

_You're an asshole. You've been an asshole for years but it took me this long to realize that. We've been through so much shit together and I was just supposed to find out on my own you left without a word? How could you have just up and left without telling the one guy who you’ve known longer than you’ve known how to write your own name._

_Well, I guess you didn’t leave without a word. Yeah, I might’ve exaggerated that bit because clearly everybody knew of this except for me. I found out through Butters motherfucking Stotch of all people. Why did he know seemingly all about you and your life and not me? So much for super best friends._

_I always tried to give you the benefit of the doubt but this is just too much. You are such a dick. When I found out about this, I couldn't believe it. I was so sure you would've told me first and let me just tell you that it hurts a little. But hey, let's not make this about me, let's talk about you. You'd like that, wouldn't you?_

_Remember the first time you’d gotten piss drunk? You had a habit of drinking when things didn’t go your way and you always pretended like you had things under control. Oh, and whenever I’d mention you inheriting this habit from your dad, you’d get angry at me as if it was my fault you were like this. Since you made it clear that the feelings of another person don’t matter in friendships and relationships like this, then I guess I can just go ahead and say that you’re no better than your dad. I sincerely hope you get over your alcohol addiction, my friend. Maybe then you’ll stop needing a buddy to stay by your side as you throw up an entire bottle of liquor and dinner in one sitting._

_Well, this buddy isn’t going to stay by your side anymore after all the shit you’ve pulled._

_I haven’t seen your face in a few years, and I can barely remember what it looks like when you’re not intoxicated. You still have all of the pictures of us together since you always insisted we’d take a picture together. What was that all about? Are they still on your phone or did you delete them? What did you even want them for?_

_My teen years, even though they aren’t that far behind me, I feel like it was a whole different world. It was so different from how things are now, with every day feeling uncertain as to how it’d turn out. The anxiety and the stress that was always present due to school and, frankly, you; I hated that looming feeling of danger but somehow, I miss it now._

_I remember feeling invincible together with you. Sometimes it just felt like it was us two and that the rest of the world just consisted of spectators. We were the main characters of our own story and we conquered the world like an unstoppable duo. You had your flaws and I had mine, but we both tried to help the other cope. Although it was chaotic, it still withheld a certain type of balance._

_Remember when we got into a fight with Craig and those guys? I never told you, but I was scared half to death when I realized what we’d done. Not because I felt bad, but mostly because I was afraid of my mom finding out. Now that I look back at our teen selves and how this all went down, I figure that you probably knew I was scared. It was a little obvious, though I did spend a few years of my life thinking you couldn’t tell. For that, I do apologize; I underestimated your perceptiveness by a longshot. It’s a little funny that I put up a tough front so often, but you probably saw right through me, didn’t you? I remember you helped me sneak back into my room without my mom noticing and helped tend to some of the bruises and scratches that had found their way onto my skin. Your hands were in a worse condition than mine, yet you still made the effort to delicately care for me. I kept on muttering nonsense, and you repeatedly told me that everything was going to be fine. At a certain point, I had finally shut up, and for a brief moment, I caught a glimpse of an expression I had never seen before on your face. It was dark, but I could tell that you were smiling with such kind and soft eyes._

_I fell asleep thinking about you that night._

_It wasn’t anything explicitly romantic or heartfelt, I realize that now. You were just comforting a friend but my mind couldn’t stop the memory from repeating over and over again whenever I saw you laugh. There came a point in time where you had stopped laughing and smiling as frequently as you used to but I still remember how it made me feel whenever you did. I'd feel like I'd won the lottery whenever I said something that cheered you up._

_Even after graduation, I couldn’t get that expression out of my head. It felt special, to have a person only smile like that when they're with you. I didn't know if you were like this with other people as well but I never dwelled on those thoughts for too long._

_That Stan Marsh who so was kind and passionate; that was the Stan Marsh I wanted to remember hanging out with. The one who would make and laugh at dumb jokes but wouldn't hesitate to risk his own safety to make sure his best friend was alright. That version of you was admirable to a degree, wouldn’t you say so? A lot of the times I hung out with you, I’d convinced myself that this kind guy was the one who I was seeing. Every time I found you passed out on the floor of your bedroom, I convinced myself that I was helping him. If I caught you smoking behind the school and skipping class, I would pinch myself before approaching you, telling myself that this darkness was going to pass. I would be reunited with my best friend again once this week was over._

_And those weeks turned into months, and those months turned into semesters; but maybe once high school was over, we could go back to the way things were? Maybe then you could look at me properly and talk to me without lashing out or breaking into tears. It took me another six years before I had finally realized that version of you was gone._

_We had gotten into so many fights by the beginning of twelfth grade. I was so sick of hearing about you and Wendy and it was clear to everyone around you two that neither of you was good for the other. It was painful to see your self-destructive behavior come to the surface, and I couldn’t do anything about it. You’d get angry and kick me out of your room but come back to me the next day, pretending as nothing had happened. How fucking shitty is that? You seemed to have never understood that people treated you like shit because you treated yourself like shit in the first place._

_Some nights I wasn’t able to sleep. I thought it was my fault you ended up like this. As your oldest and best friend, I felt some sort of responsibility for your behavior. Was I not there for you when I needed to be? Did you need support that I couldn’t give to you? I sincerely tried my best to be there for you, but I was so tired of your constant pushing and pulling. Sometimes I thought I had made progress and broke down some of your walls, but when we’d see each other again the next day, you were completely unavailable. I could tell when you would start bottling your feelings up again, almost as if you were planning your next attack. What would be the most inconvenient time to verbally abuse my friends and family again? At what point should I completely destroy the other relationships I still have standing so I can complain about how I’m so lonely the following morning?_

_I’m still pissed off at you for not going to therapy. I’m mad at you for many reasons, for shouting at me trying to help you, for ignoring me for weeks on end before crawling back to me, for disregarding our entire friendship because you felt shitty that day, but I still get so angry thinking about you never getting any professional help. I don’t know if it’s right to be mad at a mentally ill person not getting help because I know that you weren’t doing well. Maybe we should’ve tried harder or maybe we could’ve done this or that. We couldn’t force you to go but it still felt like my responsibility. I felt like I had failed when I saw you that day. Like I could’ve prevented you from doing something stupid if I had only tried harder._

_I guess I’m more angry at myself for not having done more. Not like I should care about this anymore. In the end, it wasn’t my responsibility. I do, however, blame you for making me feel this way. The guilt that I feel to this day is merely a remnant of what I felt five years ago. I beat myself up over it so often that then. I didn’t know how to talk to you anymore, I was scared that I would say something wrong. Somehow you seemed fragile to me, after the day you were released from the hospital. You talked so little compared to before, and I don’t know if it made me a bad person, but the silence between us just made me resent you more by the day._

_Look, I regret ignoring you during our five last months of high school. I’m sorry for averting my gaze whenever people sought out to harass you. I was a fucking prick to you, and even though you were a shit friend, I shouldn’t have ended our friendship the way I did. I just want to know what happened to you. There had to have been something that hurt you to the point you just had to turn out like this. There had to have been a reason that I could just never figure out. Why were you in so much pain?_

_Just give me a reply, even a single word letting me know how much I’ve wronged you would be enough. Just fucking tell me if you’re mad at me, just say it and tell me why. This radio silence is making me go insane. I know that I could've been better and I know that I ended up hurting you but, you disappearing and pretending I don't exist is just cruel._

_Talk to me, please._

_From,_

_Kyle_


End file.
